Repair (2 of 4)
by Quizicalcoatl
Summary: The war between Scarlet and Cobalt rages on. Poland and Lithuania have a lot of work to do, but for now, it's all they can do to survive. With lives like theirs, who knows if they'll recover? SPELLCASTER, SECRETKEEPER IS THE PREQUEL. THIS IS ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

Rating: T for violence, death (not sure if it qualifies as more than mentioned... It's not graphic), sexual references, and vaguely implied abuse.

Talking: Hey guys! This is the second fic in my series (Spellcaster, Secretkeeper being the first), so I suggest you check out the first one if you haven't read it yet! It can be found on my profile :) Anyway, get ready for some LietPol action because POLAND NO STOP THE PONY IS INNOCENT-

And I swear I will publish the annoyed Switzerland story. It's written, but I need to edit it! (Say that five times fast. Edit it editit editititedtitieieduidit). It's going to be called **For Elise.**

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story: they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya

CHAPTER ONE:

"Poland," I sigh. Poland glances up at me, green eyes bright. I bury my face in my hands. "Poland, Poland, Poland. What have I told you about running a blackmail empire?"

We're in my tent because Poland is just a Colonel, meaning he has to share with humans. However, I'm the Brigadier General-a elected Colonel who everyone thought would make levelheaded decisions-so I get my own. Poland seems to have invaded it for the time being, even though he complains that the blue of the tarp isn't pretty enough and that the wide cot is lumpy.

"I don't care, because it's, like, totally fun! And it's not blackmail, Liet, I just know what to listen for," he says with a slight frown. As usual, he talks with his hands-so to speak. Although he hands do a decent amount of moving around, he also shifts his weight and flares his wings and makes the funniest expressions.

"You mean, you gossip?" I say, raising an eyebrow. "You know, I could report you to Germany or America. They'd freak if they knew the kind of stuff you have on them."

"Well, just because I know that America chooses to ignore people instead of being naturally ignorant and that Germany likes baking with Liechtenstein doesn't mean I've got complete control over them or anything," Poland says, rolling his eyes.

"Wait-Germany likes _what_ now?" I wonder, eyes wide. "And come on, you've got to have more than that."

Poland smirks, rolling onto his back (don't his wings get pins and needles, though?) and staring at the ceiling. "Of course I know more than that!" he says, then looks at me. His eyes are an intense, brilliant green. "But if everyone knew, it wouldn't be so useful anymore, would it?"


	2. Chapter 2

Rating: T

Talking: :) I like writing Poland.

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story: they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya!

CHAPTER TWO:

"Please, Lithuania, this whole blackmail deal is really getting out of hand. When he doesn't feel like doing work, no one can make him because he's got info on all the nations and all the humans are of lower rank than him," Germany sighed, pale wings drooping. "And I think he respects you more than the rest of us."

"That's pushing it," I replied quietly, "But of course, I'll see what I can do."

"I'll see you at tomorrow's meeting, then, I trust?" he wondered, and I nodded.

 _"Iki,"_ I told him, and hurried out of the commander's tent.

I held my wings high at soldier's march as I walked briskly between tents. They're broad and rounded, the same mousy brown as my long hair. I always told the humans that I managed to convince America to let me have it long, but really, it's just that I'm a nation. No nation is really allowed to order another nation around.

*time skip brought to you by Russia's surprisingly obvious DID*

And that's how I got into this situation.

"Poland, you need to get to work," I say, frowning.

"Five more minutes…" he begs, covering his face with one sandy wing. I sigh.

"You have drills, Poland. C'mon, it's funny to watch the faces Germany makes when Italy utterly fails," I say, hopeful, but honestly I doubt this will work.

Poland pushes the blanket off. "Okay… Tell them I might be a bit late…"

I stare at him. It really took little as that? Wait… "What do you mean by 'a bit late?'"

He refuses to meet my eyes.

I sigh, louder this time, as Poland climbs out of his cot and stretches. "If you're not there in fifteen minutes, I'll come back and drag you there myself."

So I walk out of the tent and spread my wings. After a run-up to get momentum on my side-having longer wings than the average Western nation does have its disadvantages-I take to the air.

Once I get high enough, I glide far above the camp. I can see the specks of people below me, much more human than nation, but from here I can't tell the difference-can't see the ragged scars or the bloody gashes or the eyes still looking for something long lost.

This war needs to end.


	3. Chapter 3

Rating: T

Talking: The "da ze" is part of South Korea's speech thing and I don't understand how it works, so if someone knows how he uses it (ex: on questions instead of statements, etc.) it would be wonderful if you reviewed/PM-ed! :D

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story: they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

CHAPTER THREE:

How did it end up like this, again?

"Oh, and Taiwan gave me some of her pretty pink nail polish with the sparkles in it, so, like, is that okay? I think it'll go great with your eyes." Poland asks.

He's sitting cross-legged on the floor, his wings spread out behind him and a row of nail polish jars beside him. I have somehow found myself sitting on his bed, holding my hands out for him to paint.

"You think sparkly pink and green go well together? Uh, what about that green…" I wonder, gesturing vaguely to the row of jars. "Do I really have to?"

"Yeah, or, at least let me do it. C'mon, it'll be, like, totally fun!" he says, swaying back and forth. He's never been able to sit still for long. "Please?"

I sigh and hold my hands out. "You're doing it, then."

 _"_ _Dzięki!"_ he says, and picks up the sparkly pink nail polish.

The flaps of the tent open just as he starts, the sharp, almost toxic smell filling the air. A man-a nation-with a familiar face bounces into the tent. Is that South Korea? I haven't met him too many times, but I've heard he's energetic and hyperactive. Is it really a good idea to let him and Poland share a tent?

"Oh, Poland, can you paint my nails too? Sparkly blue, da ze!" South Korea requests, his voice cheery, as he plops down on the bed beside me. He gives me a lopsided grin. "You're Lithuania, right? You can go first, da ze!"

And that is when I decided that South Korea was not only energetic and hyperactive, but also most probably insane.

And I still have no idea how I got here.


	4. Chapter 4

Rating: T

Talking: Uh... Hey guys, if anyone's reading this! I'm thinking I might not publish the third and fourth fics after I finish this, because I have another one I've finished and would like to publish instead. Also, I'm losing motivation very quickly and the fourth fic isn't done, or even very thoroughly outlined. Plus I have some medical complications happening and might be in a hospital for a couple weeks. :| But if I get enough reviews, I might publish the third, at least.

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story: they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

CHAPTER FOUR:

"That was mean," I scold over breakfast. Germany is still sitting with us, but England left and France went to find him.

"Hey, I was just curious. And they're, like, totally cute together, so," Poland laughs as France pauses to talk to a human. One of Poland's citizens, if I'm not mistaken. She exchanges a few words with France and he wanders off, sunny yellow wings held high.

Germany suddenly stands up. "Under the tables!" he shouts. "Get down!" He drops to the ground, hiding under the heavy dry wood. I duck under the table and pull Poland with me just in time. The canvas tent explodes in flame.

I have a wing wrapped around Poland and the other is shielding myself. Poland is huddled close to me, his eyes wide. "Liet… What's happening?"

"It's the Scarlets," I say, fists clenching and unclenching by my sides, and although I can't see much around my wings I can see Norway hovering over the tear in the canvas. Flame dances across his hands, but he doesn't burn, of course he doesn't. He's the Scarlet Archmage, after all. "Come on, follow me!"

Germany climbs out from under the table and very quickly I tug Poland out after me. Awkwardly, I pull my wing away and let go of his hand, but he doesn't seem to care about that. "We need to, like, get away from the tents," Poland says.

Just at that moment, I hear a familiar French voice shout "Cobalt, get to the east! The east!"

Poland echoes him even as he unfolds him wings, taking to the air. "Cobalt needs to fly to the east! Cobalt!"

I get a quick run-up and follow him as he emerges from the ruins of the tent. I see, out of the corner of my eye, England and Norway casting spells at each other with quick rapid-fire pacing. Poland and I fight back to back, our wings beating hard to keep us afloat.

A human. Dark hair, dark wings, red uniform. She darts under me and I give her a vicious kick and she recoils. My hand goes to my hip but I don't have any weapons with me, not that they would be very useful right now. Guns are more entertainment than anything, since they can't be fired in the air. Swords and axes are too heavy. Daggers are good. Spears are okay. But I don't have anything.

Still, I ask, "Do you have any weapons, Po?"

"No! Kinda busy right now, like, seriously Liet," he gasps out and I risk a glance over my shoulder. One of his wings is missing some flight feathers and his balance is off-kilter. A man is attacking him, and the other soldier has a dagger.

A weight slams into me, pushing me in dizzying circles. I hit Poland with my shoulder and he starts to fall, but my hands shoot forward and I catch him, though now I'm slowly sinking. My wings still beat against the dry air, but we were unprepared.

"Let go!" Poland says. I stare at him, eyes wide.

"It's too high! You'll get hurt!" I reply, daring to glance back. The two soldiers we were fighting are now locked in combat with Japan, who is much more prepared. His magic cuts though their uniforms easily to reach their skin and he says the spells quietly, under his breath, so they never know what's coming for them.

"C'mon, let me go, Liet," Poland says, arms scrabbling at my hands. He pries my fingers off and fall. He's a deadweight. He hits the ground with a thump and I glance between him and the battle, panic rising in my veins. These are Russia's forces we're fighting against. There's too many of them. We were caught unprepared. What if they win?

I'm still sinking. I drop to the ground beside Poland, landing gracefully on both feet. Poland lies limp, and for a terrifying moment I think he's unconscious, but then he pushes himself up. "Liet, I told you I'd be fine…"

I sigh, then stand. "Hey! It-I mean, Feliciano! Come over here, we've got an injured!" I call. Italy pauses, hovering, then rushes over to us. He lands beside us and frowns down at Poland.

"You're missing some secondaries, did they burn you? No? Okay, good! How far was the fall? Oh, you probably have some severe bruising, then. That's high. We should keep you from bleeding too much, but please know that we can't do too much because we need to save some magic reserves for the people with worse injuries," Feliciano chirps, kneeling over him.

I glance back at the battle. Feathers fly as soldiers tear at each other, blood splattering on the dry dirt and across the red and blue uniforms of the forces. Mages cast red spells of crimson blood and blue spells of endless sleep. Soldiers fight tooth and nail, wings snapping bone and hands grasping at feathers. Medics rush underneath them, ignoring the blood that splashes across them and their charges as they try to save lives and fail all too often.

It's dangerous up there.

"Do what the medics say," I tell Poland, and then launch myself into the air.


	5. Chapter 5

Rating: T

Talking: Oh yeah, and this is overlapping with Spellcaster, Secretkeeper! It should be pretty obvious when that ends and we continue into the future.

In other news, I've been listening to Guns For Hands by Twenty One Pilots on loop for over seven hours straight now. I am edging closer to insanity.

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story: they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya

CHAPTER FIVE:

When I land after the battle, I'm panting, my skin and clothes stained red. My muscles ache and old scars burn, but I still have more to do. I stumble into the temporary medic's tent. I don't recognize most of the faces, but when I do recognize them I try not to look too long. Those things can haunt you forever. I would know. I pass France and England and almost a dozen humans before I reach the bed I'm looking for. "Uh, Feliks? _Sveiki,"_

Poland sits up, hissing through his teeth in pain. "Liet," he returns. "They wouldn't let me go fight! Can you believe that? They didn't let me go fight for my country. I was hardly hurt at all. Please tell them to let me go!"

I give him a level stare. "No," I reply simply. "You're still hurt. Look, you can hardly sit up."

He sighs and crosses his arms tightly over his chest, his pale wings tensed. "I should've known you would side with them."

"Yeah, that's what I'm doing," I say matter-of-factly, then kneel beside him. "How's your wing?"

"My wing is fine," he says. He watches me quietly as I try and see how my secondaries he lost, and if he'll be able to fly again soon. "Hey, you've got a lot of blood on you. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Most of it isn't mine," I tell him. "Okay. I have to go to the meeting, but… Do what the medics say. Rest and get better."

He frowns, and I walk away.


	6. Chapter 6

Rating: T

Talking: There is a kitten on my head I cannot move or I'll push him off help

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story: they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya!

CHAPTER SIX:

"Does anybody know how many died?" America wonders, almost afraid to ask. He sports a long, thin gash down the length of his arm, cutting through the fabric of his sleeve. His shoes are caked with dirt and his wings are blood-spattered. No one answers

"I would guess about one cell's worth," Germany says after a long silence. "Maybe two."

"Well, that's not as bad as it could've been. But if we've lost two cells, then we need to gather their bodies to send them back home. Is there anyone who can do that?" I ask, my legs shaking I try to hold myself up. "The medics and mages are busy taking care of the injured. Maybe we could spare a few corporals and privates, but most of them are in the medic's tent."

Canada-he's the Treasurer, isn't he?-(I don't remember exactly. He seems like the kind of person who would try to take on the trouble of keeping America under control and organizing the money, though) decides to speak up. "Well, how many of the dead are Scarlet forces? We don't need to get them."

Germany gives a pained sort-of smile at this. "I think we took out about two cells, maybe three. At least one troop was thanks to England and his Sorcerers, so we should pay due respect."

"Wait, where's England?" America asks, glancing around the small tent.

"He's in the medic's tent with France. Fell from the sky to incapacitate a troop of Scarlet mages. Didn't you see?" Canada says softly, gesturing to the door-well, the flaps of canvas in the wall of the tent that function as a door.

America narrows his eyes. "Why're you in here?"

"I'm the Treasurer, remember?" Canada says, frowning. So I was right! "And also your brother? Don't tell me you've forgotten me again."

Germany clears his throat. When he gets no response, he continues loudly, "Everyone, pay attention! We're going to need someone to stand in for France and England. Lithuania, could you go get Italy and Japan? They're nations, and should be able to represent the medics and mages properly."

"Of course, sir," I tell him, leaving the commander's tent quickly (thankfully, it did not burn down with many of the medic's tents). "Right away."

I walk quickly through the maze of tents. A few mages are moving the sand to try and smother the flame, but without water it's hard to stop it from spreading.

That's what this war is all about. Water. We've polluted almost all of what we have, and now we need more. Of course we do. Humans never think about the future beyond their deaths, do they? They don't. And now we're paying for it.

The Scarlets want to take ice from the poles, hoping that the glaciers there will last them because they don't think our plan will succeed-they don't think we'll be able to take ice from the Asteroid Belt, even though we've been there before. They don't think it'll work. We have to make it work. If it doesn't, we'll all die. Even the nations.

Either way, this war will cost us dearly.


	7. Chapter 7

Rating: T

Talking: I have decided that France's theme song is Old-Fashioned Love Song by Three Dog Night. Even the name is perfect for him. Review for more details next chapter XD

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story: they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

CHAPTER SEVEN:

"And now we have to find Feliciano," I sigh.

Japan, beside me, shrugs. "I'm sorry, but I don't know where he is."

"Oh, it's all right," I assure him. "We'll find him soon enough. He's probably in the medic's tents, right?" I ask, flexing my wings.

 _"Hai."_ His own dark wings are long and streamlined-the wings of a globetrotter, even though I'm sure he'd rather stay alone at home with no one to bother him. We need to find a runway-here it's just too busy, with people darting in and out and around us. Neither of us would have enough space to take off.

So we walk quietly away from the tents, looking for somewhere to run.

"*time skip brought to you by imagining Mattie and Al telling each other knock knock jokes, each more passive-aggressive than the last*

"Feliciano?" I call, boots thumping against the ground as I land. Japan drops down beside me, folding his wings carefully and tucking them in close to him.

 _"Toris e Kiku!_ You're here! Help me!" he calls, flattening himself even further against the wall. A small group of humans surround him, all in blue uniforms. Why are they attacking him if they're in blue?

"No! Get away from him!" the human says. "I'm sorry, sir, but he's not human! I don't know what he is, but-"

My blood runs cold. "Step away from Feliciano Vargas," I order. Japan rushes forward, and I'm reminded that those two have been best friends for decades when he fusses over Italy and makes sure to stay between him and the humans.

The human-tall, with dark curly hair and slim wings-fidgets with his sleeve and sends Italy another icy glare. "But he's not-"

"I don't care," I say. "And if he's not human, what is he?"

The human falls silent, and I nod. "Come on, Feliciano. You'll be standing in for Francis because-"

"He's still unconscious! I know, I know," he says, hurrying towards me with Japan at his side. _"Oh, e grazie!_ I really thought they were going to get me!"

"Wait," I say, glancing back at the humans. There's three of them. "Names?"

"Um, Corporal Josh Whitley, Corporal Jaylee Hart, and Illusionist Ambree Sommer," he says, refusing to meet my eyes.

"Good," I tell him. "I'll figure out something later. And I don't want to hear any more of that 'not human' stuff. I know that Feliciano-as well as all the other soldiers, medics and mages here-are perfectly normal." Japan raises an eyebrow at that. "Or at least perfectly human," I correct, then turn on my heel. "Come on, let's go."


	8. Chapter 8

Rating: T

Talking: oh no I'm becoming a Homestuck

Also Google Translate did the Lithuanian thing.

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story: they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya!

CHAPTER EIGHT:

"Yes, they've started figuring out that we're not human! Of course we knew it was only a matter of time because it's been years and we haven't changed at all but really? I wonder if Russia is dealing with this too-he's in China now, isn't he? Now is not the time… _Ką mes turėtume daryti? Mes negalime leisti jiems paleisti nemokamai, bet mes taip pat negalime padaryti labai daug, nes jie techniškai tik išgąsdino Italiją ... Dammitas,"_ I swear.

"Calm down, dude," America says, his hands hovering nervously in the air as if he's not quite sure where to put them. "We got this, okay? They can't do anything about it, and they can't even prove it right now either."

Japan says quietly, "If this war lasts much longer, they'll definitely notice that we haven't aged at all and that we can't get hurt."

I nod. "Oh! Poland!"

There's a second or two of silence. "Well? What about him?" Germany wonders.

"He's got quite the social reputation, which we were thinking could be a problem but if he did something… It's on the tip of my tongue," I tell them, glaring at the map-covered table. "I'll ask him. We can figure it out."

"Well, good for you, then, but I for one would rather something a bit more solid than that," Germany decides. America nods.

"Sorry dude, but you know Poland. He's not exactly the most reliable," America admits.

I paste on a smile and lighten my glare. "Of course, America, I understand. So what else can we do?"


	9. Chapter 9

Rating: T

Talking: I have things planned. They are fun for me. They are evil things, and it's 2 am here. :)

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story: they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya

CHAPTER NINE:

"Poland? You're better?" I ask as he pushes open my tent.

"Clearly," he says with a smile, plopping down on my bed across from me. "I'm, like, still missing a couple secondaries, but I… Convinced a couple medics to, like, let me go early. I can like, totally heal them myself."

"I… Poland… Fine. Let me do my work and you can stay in here for a bit. And you better get those healed. If you can't do it by the time I finish this paperwork, I'll send you back to the medic's tent."

He watches me for a second. "When you lived at Russia's house, didn't you, like, occasionally blame things on Latvia? Wouldn't it be so totally interesting if he found out?" He sounds almost cocky.

I stare at him. "Are you trying to blackmail me?"

Poland smiles cheerfully. "Like, maybe a little bit."

"Well, Latvia already knows that. We all blamed things on each other, so I think we all got what was coming for us by the time we left," I say coldly, and Poland frowns as I turn back to my work.

"Please don't make me go back, it's, like, totally boring there…" he asks.

"No," I reply simply. After a few seconds of silence, I add, "You might want to start using magic to grow back your feathers, you have to finish by the time I'm done and I only have a few more pages to sign."

He huffs and I hear him shift his wings around to reach the proper feathers. "So I heard the nations were worried about something?"

"Yeah," I say.

"Then, like, what was it?" he wonders, sounding a bit annoyed.

"The humans have started to realize we're a little different," I sigh, signing my name at the bottom of a page. _Lietuva._ If only they knew.

Poland falls silent and I'm just deciding that I should glance back and check on him when he speaks up. "Are they, like, close yet? Do all of them think it?"

"No, not at all, but it's still a problem," I say. "It's just worrying." I think that worry shows in my voice as it wavers and my breathing turns shallow. After all, if they find us out, it won't be long until the nations from the other side and in other places are found out, and then they'll be angry at us, and what will Russia think about all this?

There's a slight shuffling sound from behind me, and then I jump as arms and wings encircle me. "It'll be, like, totally okay in the end," Poland promises, and he's uncomfortably close. He smells like dry dust and sweet honeysuckle flowers.

"Uh, Poland?" I ask, shrinking away and pulling my wings tightly around me.

"Huh? No hugs?" he wonders, his lips set in a pout, but moves back to stand just beside me. "Why not?"

"Um, I don't like them. No thank you," I say nervously, edging away.

He frowns and repeats, "But why not?"

"Uh… Because I don't? They're uncomfortable," I say, refusing to meet his eyes.

"It's because of Russia, isn't it," Poland says, and it's not a question. Quietly, I nod. His frown lightens. "It's okay! I'm your friend, I'm not, like, going to hurt you."

I look him right in the eyes and say, "Just a couple minutes ago you were trying to blackmail me."

He looks a little embarrassed, then, pink dusting his cheeks. "Well, that was, like, really more of a joke… And I, like, totally don't have anything major on you, since the only thing I said you said was totally wrong, right?"

I sigh. "Poland, don't lie! You know about my scars. Now, I have to trust you."

"Oh…" he says. "Well, that's just too important. I wouldn't, like, tell anybody about those. Except maybe the people who know."

"Only you, America, Estonia, and Russia know. Russia might not, actually, because sometimes he doesn't remember what happens during his periods of insanity and I think… I think knowing that he did that to me would devastate him." I glance up at Poland. "He really did think we were good friends, you know."

Poland continues, "But I don't have, like, 'periods of insanity!' Well, sometimes I do, like, totally reckless things, but that's not insanity. I just wanna hug you!"

"But I don't want hugs, and it's bad to hug some if they don't want to be hugged," I say, and realize that this is quite the odd conversation to be having with a grown man-even more so a nation, who's older than any man still alive today.

Poland pouts, but stays away.


	10. Chapter 10

Rating: T

Talking: Yeah so this scene was also in Spellcaster, Secretkeeper but this time it's from Lithuania's perspective! :) I'll also publish chapter 11 today though.

Unrelated, I was playing this game and one of the kids I was playing with had to speak in a French accent, right? And he didn't know how to do that and ended up just saying 'bonjour' and 'oui' before and after every sentence and I was laughing at how offended France would be XD

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story: they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya

CHAPTER TEN:

"So, for serious this time, did you guys, like, do the do last night?" Poland wonders curiously. I nearly choke.

England does actually choke, blushing crimson. He hides his face in his hands and puling his wings tightly around him. An apology is on my lips but then France begins to speak. "My charm is irresistible, and we were sharing a tent. Of course he didn't last long," he says almost casually, and England grabs his arm, burying his face in it. I stare in shock.

"Frog, I will skin you," England threatens, his voice a little shaky. I'm sure he's swearing colorfully in his head. I bury my face in my hands but peek through my fingers.

"I'll skin you first, _mon lapin,"_ France says cheerfully. England makes a strangled hissing noise in the back of his throat. I can't help but raise an eyebrow.

Poland laughs, "I knew it! You two are, like, totally cute together!" he declares, his wings starting to rise from pure excitement. I have to grab his wingtips to keep him from whacking any of the humans behind him, and we get more than a few strange looks.

Germany-who has so far been staying safely out of the conversation-raises an eyebrow. "Skinning is what you call cute? Remind me not to invade Poland…" he says under his breath. France glares, but I have to focus on my friend.

"Please calm down, Poland," I beg. Poland sends me a quick glare and doesn't react. "Calm down, Po," I say with a sigh.

Poland leans back in his seat, hooking his feet into the supports under the table so he doesn't flip over. Germany tents his wings around himself as if to hide from the outside world. I kind of feel like doing that myself, actually.

France begins explaining all the details to Poland ("He's got a tattoo of a guitar that even I didn't know about!"). I watch in complete and utter horror while England starts clenching France's arm so hard I wouldn't be surprised if he cut off the circulation.

Well, this is Poland. I should probably get used to this kind of stuff if I'm going to be friends with him.

But this is just an illusion of peace, isn't it?


	11. Chapter 11

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story: they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

CHAPTER ELEVEN:

The floorboards creak as I open my eyes. The world is a dark gray-black, not quite pitch. The only light filters in from the open flap of my tent. It's quiet. Quiet, but not silent. Another creak. A rustling of feathers. Who's in here with me?

I lay still, keeping my breathing slow and even. I hope the dark will hide the fact that my eyes are still wide open, searching. If only my eyes would adjust to the dark faster… Is Poland playing a prank on me? I wouldn't put it past him-

A tall shape looms over me, his too-large wings raised high and blotting out the light. I can still make out almost-a-face in the darkness and I gasp, because that's enough to recognize him.

"You're not supposed to be here!" I shout, bolting up. My heartbeat pounds. My wings flare. I'm too slow.

His wings come down with a thump and the night fades back to pitch, my scream muffled by feathers and my neck twisted in all the wrong ways.

If only it was Poland.


	12. Chapter 12

Rating: T

Talking: Hi! Sorry I was gone for a bit, I was pretty busy. Anyways, on with the chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story: they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

CHAPTER TWELVE:

"Oh, you're awake! Good!" a cheery voice says. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Uh… Huh?" I wonder, eyes opening slowly. My head pulses in a throbbing sort of pain and my neck is tight, almost to the point of burning. "My… Head hurts."

Then I remember, slowly, what happened.

"Where am I?" I demand. The ceiling is gray and the walls are gray and _are those bars?_

"I can't tell you that, I'm sorry," the voice apologizes, and I recognize it like how I recognized his face last night. Last night? Or was it days ago? Weeks, even?

I jolt up and my head rings. The world spins around me and I have to lay back down. "Russia?" I ask. "You're supposed to be in China! You can't have brought me from France to China!"

"Oh, don't worry! I didn't," Russia says. "Do you want me to get you some water? You must be thirsty."

"Where are you?" I demand. "What do you want?"

"Oh, you're all fierce again! Yay, I missed you, you know," Russia wonders. "I think I'll get you some water."

I sit up more slowly this time. I'm missing my blue jacket-I'm still wearing most of my uniform, minus the blue jacket and boots. I have no weapons. Of course. Even if I had one hidden somewhere, I'm sure I've been throughly searched. "Where are you?" I repeat. There's no answer, and the silence is heavy.

Russia walks out on the other side of the bars. The most noticeable thing about him is his wings-massive, with an easily thirteen foot wingspan, and rounded, ashy blonde feathers the same color as his hair-and the second most noticeable is his expression-a small smile that doesn't reach his lavender eyes.

He says softly, "I'm sorry I have to keep you in a cell, but you're on the other side of the war and all. As soon as you decide to help me I can let you out and help you go through the ranks quickly, but for now I can't have the humans knowing about you. It might reveal us, and that would be bad, _да?"_

I choose not to respond, just watch as he continues, "So I knew you wouldn't drink the water if you thought it was poisoned, even though that wouldn't make any sense at all really, so-" he takes a sip "-here you go."

He's right, of course. He knows me too well. I stand up slowly and he carefully passes the tall cup to me. The cup has narrow sides that fit through the bars and is made of plastic. He doesn't want me getting my hands on any glass I could use as a weapon, even though I'm sure it'd be a short and futile fight.

 _"_ _Ačiū,"_ I say shortly. He smiles and it lights up his whole face.

"You're welcome!" he chimes happily. I hesitate, then quickly gulp down the water. He's right. I was more thirsty than I thought. I pass the cup back through the bars, but he doesn't offer to get any more.

"So your head hurts?" he wonders. I can't tell whether he's happy or sad or merely curious. Knowing him, it could be anything.

I nod slowly. "A bit."

He smiles, and it's honestly terrifying to see such childishness and sadism on the same face. "Oh, good! If it was only a little bit, that means I did a good job! I didn't break your skull or anything!"

"I wouldn't have woken up yet if you broke my skull," I say. The familiar terror is starting to creep in again. It was something much more routine back when we lived together, but now that I've had a while to survive on my own, without the constant fear of Russia looming over my head… Well, it seems even worse now.

 _"_ _да,_ probably," he says, but doesn't sound too concerned. "I'm sorry, but I'm usually very busy so I can't see my friends often. I'll come talk to you when I can, is that good?"

I swallow, then force myself to nod. I wring my hands to keep them from shaking. I know the right answer to this question-because there _is_ a right and wrong answer, yes. "Yeah, uh, very good."

Russia smiles brightly, "Okay, I have to go now. I'll see you next time, Lithuania."

He disappears from sight.


	13. Chapter 13

Rating: T

Talking: I don't think I'll be publishing the last fic in this series for awhile, just cause like, I doubt anyone would read it and I have other fics, so...

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story: they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya!

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

"Lithuania," a voice says monotonously. "It's Norway."

Norway.

I… I know him. A bit.

He's the Scarlet Archmage, and before the war, he didn't really mean much to me. Well, we never fought or even had a particularly tense relationship, but… He wasn't a friend, either. An acquaintance. He respected my bravery and former power, and I respected his.

 _"_ _Sveiki,"_ I reply.

That relationship-peaceful nonchalance-is over now. We're at war, and he's not under the illusion that we're friends.

"Stand up," he orders. Uncertainly, I do, waiting for his next move. Even his wings are set at a neutral military stance, though they're usually one of the most expressive parts of the body, I notice. "I'm just going to check you and the room to make sure you haven't laid any magical traps-not that they would work, anyway."

He mutters a few words under his breath and frost sweeps around the room, dancing across the blank paint and lighting up the cracks in the stone floor. It touches my feet and it's colder than ice as it races up my legs and through my entire body. I shiver and try not to do anything I'm not supposed to.

Then, as quickly as it came, the frost is gone.

 _"_ _Takk._ You made it simpler. Don't try anything, because I'll be checking in every once in awhile to make sure you're not trying to escape," he says, and then he leaves.

I almost dare to wonder what would've happened if I _had_ laid a magic trap.


	14. Chapter 14

Rating: T

Talking: Hey guys, I'm gonna put this on permanent hiatus after this... :( I'm kinda falling out of the Hetalia fandom, and I don't really have any motivation for publishing this...

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story: they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

So, Lithuania, _Янтарный,"_ Russia begins.

Oh, right. _Янтарный_ -meaning amber one. A nickname. A mineral considered a national symbol of my nation… Boiled down to just a silly nickname.

"Since we can be friends now, I'm sure you'd be fine with telling me what America and the other Cobalts are up to over there?" he wonders. "I've heard England moved to the central France station, away from Spain. I didn't think he liked France at all."

"I didn't either," I say, and wish I could forget Poland and France's traumatizing conversation.

"Oh, oh! You've gotten, how should I put it, more confident! More confident since I last spoke to you. That was so long ago, but we can fix that now," Russia says, smiling happily. "You used to stutter much more, _да?"_

I straighten, my wings folded tightly. Of course Russia doesn't notice the fear evident in my posture. Of course he doesn't. "I-I guess," I say.

 _"_ _нет,_ don't go back to it! I like you this way, so don't ever change, _Янтарный!"_ he says. His tone puts those lines somewhere between a request and a threat. I don't know what to do about that, really.

"Okay," I say, obeying, making sure to keep my voice steady. It's never a good idea to disobey Russia, especially when he's got you locked up. I learned that the hard way.

He broke us all.

I don't think he knew that was what he was doing, but he did.

Latvia was easy, Latvia came first. He gave himself up after the first few torture sessions. (Not that Russia called them that, of course. I think it was just that when we refused to join him, when we fought him not at all like he wanted us to do, his… Insanity took over. He's always walked a very fine line, Russia, but when we angered him it pushed him off the edge.)

Estonia was never truly broken, but he did a very good job at faking it, knew all the right words to say to avoid another beating. He also always knew all the right words to convince Russia that it had been one of us, not him, who had made a mistake.

He didn't try to break his sisters. Ukraine broke because of her own sympathy-she couldn't bear to see her brother doing this to people like us-to people as little as Latvia. Belarus was already cracked, but I think we all gradually took her heart apart, tearing it into pieces bit by bit. Seeing Latvia with blood smeared across his clothes, his skin ripped. Seeing her brother crying after he realized what he had done. Seeing Ukraine praying for God to forgive Russia for his actions. Seeing Prussia still fighting back and realizing, as Russia knocked Prussia out yet again, that she was in love with a man like that…

Prussia took a long, long time to break. He had quite the fighting spirit, and his upbringing, his pride and his family kept him from giving in. But eventually… Eventually, he broke too, and had earned Russia's friendship.

Poland was… Odd. I've never been really sure if Russia completely broke him or not, but he definitely wasn't left intact, either. He gave up, let's say, a few weeks in. Nothing compared to Prussia's year, but still much longer than many.

I took longer than you would think. Not as long as Prussia, certainly, but so much longer than Latvia or Poland or even Belarus. You wouldn't know that, looking at me now. But I used to be someone to respect.

And of course, Russia's here again. Just as I started picking up the broken pieces, trying to fix them all back together again, he's here. I should've known he wouldn't let me.

 _"_ _Янтарный,_ are you okay?" Russia asks, leaning forward to look me in the eyes. "Are you tired? Do you need to sleep?"

I take a quick breath and back away, wings pulled tightly around me. "I'm fine, not tired at all. No need to worry, Russia," I assure him.

"Good! I want my friends to be well rested," he says, beaming. "But I think we got… Sidetracked, was it? What's going on with the Cobalts?"

"Well, it's war, so it's not fun," I say. If I can make it sound like I'm giving real information out, not just useless things… Well, let's just see if I can pull it off. "Never is. We're trying to work towards our goal, same as you-"

 _"_ _нет,_ don't refer to the Cobalts as 'us.' That would mean we can't be friends," Russia says, and just what does he think he's doing? The people there-like Poland-are my real friends.

I obey anyway. "Uh, of course. Um, the Cobalt forces are spread throughout their nations and they're getting some minor support from some other, technically neutral nations: supplies from Sweden and Finland, and some money from Seychelles. Naturally, we-uh, they-know that both sides are doing this, though the Scarlets are taking advantage of this much more than the Cobalts."

"Do you think that's a bad idea?" Russia wonders, and the question surprises me. I'm his prisoner. I'm talking to him through the bars on my cell.

"It's not particularly honest," I tell him. "But that doesn't mean it's bad!" I add quickly. "Not at all. War isn't honest or good."

Russia watches me for a moment, then smiles, his wings rising in happiness and as a side affect looming over him. "Thank you, Lithuania! You were very helpful and it's always fun to talk to an old friend. Like you said, war isn't fun. But I want to make sure my people are safe, and I don't think we should just gamble everything on getting to the Asteroid Belt and doing everything successfully when we have resources right here."

"Uh, goodbye, then," I say hopefully.

"Until next time, _Янтарный!"_ he replies, and is gone.


End file.
